How The Other Half Live
by RinaBebeh
Summary: Bella hates everything about being famous, including the pressure. Forks is the best place to get away from it. Edward has more baggage than he can handle. Nothing can change that. The only peace they have is with each other. But peace is a relative term.
1. New Experienes

_I want to be rich and I want lots of money  
I don't care about clever I don't care about funny  
I want loads of clothes and fuckloads of diamonds  
I heard people die while they are trying to find them_

_And I'll take my clothes off and it will be shameless_  
_'Cuz everyone knows that's how you get famous_  
_I'll look at the sun and I'll look in the mirror_  
_I'm on the right track, yeah I'm on to a winner_

_-Lily Allen, "The Fear"._

**Isabella Swan.**

Fame is never something I aspired to. Fame is something that has always been there, like a childhood friend. I've known fame for my entire life and in that time, I've seen the good and the bad. Though good and bad can be relative terms if you'd like to get technical. There's always something fulfilling and something degrading in every aspect of it. I just like to judge by which points are stronger. The degrading or the fulfilling, the good or the bad. I've always been told that I was really lucky to be in the lime light. But the lime light is blinding and you end up relying on other things to help you through it. For some it may be substances, such as drugs or even alcohol. For others it's family, like husbands, wives and children. A select few don't need anything or anyone to guide them. They simply see and assess. In my opinion, those select few are the only lucky ones in the business. It seems so glamorous, on the red carpet and in the magazines. But to the people that are having their picture taken, it's just a party. You're there because it would be rude not to make an appearance. Your face will be forgotten and you'll be awarded a negative label, something nobody wants.

You have to step into the fame willingly to ever hope to be happy with it. You have to want it more than anything to ever be comfortable. I have a great amount of respect for those few stars that have the courage to turn down movie offers and step back away from the spot light. Even if it's only for a few moments, they had the strength to pull away from the circle. That is the only part of the business that I want more than anything. I want the power to step away from it all, if only for a second. There has never been a time in my life when I wasn't being watched. I've always had eyes on me, whether they were welcome or not. More often than not, I don't welcome the eyes.

It all started when I was one year old. My Mother was approached by a photographer in the shopping mall who told her that I was simply too adorable to hide behind closed doors. Mother has always been incredibly conceited and to have a compliment like that lavished on her child? It went straight to her head and the next day I was in the studio, dressed in my best jumper, being photographed. The man told my Mother that it was a shot in the dark, but he was going to send my photo into a parenting magazine as a submission for the cover that month. Mother was floored and immediately entered me in child beauty pageants locally. The same day I won my first pageant, the photographer called to inform us that my photograph had been selected as the cover of the magazine that month. It was silly and honestly had no stability to take me anywhere, but Mother brought me to modeling agencies all over the state of Washington, looking for one that was accepting baby models. I was shot down again and again, by agencies that didn't work with infants like that. Mother took that as failure and continued to push me harder in my pageants. By the time I was two, we were traveling across state for a measly one hundred dollar maximum. To Mother, it wasn't the money that counted. It was the title.

I was spotted in my sixteenth pageant, at three years old. It was my personality, I was later told, that won them over. They told me the expression on my face when I was crowned told them that there was something different about me that needed to be explored. I was taken into a modeling agency and my photographs appeared pregnancy, parenting and baby magazines all over the country. Mother was over her head and she was wearing my Father down with all the traveling and appointments. I think in the end, I was what drove them apart. My first clear memory was Mother taking me on a red eye flight to California when I was four. I had an agent by then and when we moved to California, I was set up in auditions for commercials and small television roles. I was in my first commercial about three months after the divorce was settled. It was a cracker commercial and I was playing a little girl that couldn't get enough of them. I remember the crackers being flaky and smelling horrible, but we went through five boxes with all the takes we did. The lines were cheesy and I recall Mother scolding me on the way home for not having enough spirit when I said them.

I was six when I had my first voice lesson. On the rare occasions I was allowed to see my Dad, he told me it was raw talent that I wad gifted with and not to let anyone try and 'cook it'. Those are his words, not mine. I refused to work with the voice coach, not until Mother threatened to take away every privilege I held. No television, no story time, no more movies, no more toys. She was going to take everything I valued with that warped childlike sense of emotion. I finally worked with the coach, who actually told me the same thing Dad did. It would absolutely despicable to change anything about my voice. Mother acted like she thought the same thing, but all she did was take dance instead. She had apparently decided we would go back to my vocal 'issues' when I was more compliant. Dance was terrible. I had classes four days a week for ten hours every day. Mother got me a tutor with some of my modeling money and I was schooled from home.

Everything about the lights got more and more overwhelming, the older I got. When I was eleven, we went back to my vocals after my dancing was as professional as Mother thought it could get. I danced my little ass every day at that studio, all by myself, screaming every time I got a move wrong. I hated myself for the longest time, because of all the negative words Mother spewed at me. As my voice matured, the dollar signs matured as well. Mother saw something in me apparently, because she had my agent call recording studios all around Los Angeles. I was fourteen when I had my first single. It was cheesy and impersonal, but Mother thought it was success. I didn't know anything besides _work_. To me, music and acting wasn't fun or something I enjoyed by any standards. I despised everyone around me that wanted me to perform for them, like I was a trained chimp. I suppose that's what I was in their eyes. After a year of lackluster lyrics and half hearted dance steps, I finally took a stand. If I had to do this, I was going to do it on my terms. I wanted to write my own music. And so I did.

I'd been writing poetry for years, but just as something to do when I actually wasn't busy. I transferred poems into lyrics with no trouble at all. It took me by surprise that something that came naturally actually pleased Mother. I didn't have to work at writing; it was just something that came from within. I had my first real album when I fifteen. It went on fairly smoothly for the next two years. I drew the line in the sand when my agent got me an audition for a movie role. It just wasn't something I wanted to do.

"It'll do wonders for your career." Mother gushed in the car after I turned it down. "You have no idea what your passing up, young lady."

"Oh, and you do?" I snorted. "You know as much about movies as I do. I'd like to stay in the theatre, not on the screen."

"Isabella!" She snapped. "As your Mother, it's my responsibility to help you make decisions. Well, this is a fine example. You need my help with this. I'll call Jenks in the morning and tell him the audition is back on."

There was no arguing with her. So, when we got back to the house that _I _was paying for with my record deal, I called my Dad. He answered on the first ring. That was the thing I liked most about my Dad. I didn't see him as much as I'd like to, but he always had time for me. I sniffled and explained what was going on in a mass of tears.

"Daddy, I don't want to do this." I sobbed. "Please, help me."

Little did I know, his idea of help was buying me a plane ticket to Washington that very night. He called me the next day bouncing out of his seat; he was so excited to tell me.

"Dad, slow down." I sighed. "You're mumbling at me."

He took a deep breath. "You've been in L.A way too long, baby. So…I decided, you're coming to live with me."

This did not sit well with Mother, as you might have guessed. Her only defense was a shriek and the fact that she still had primary custody of me. We got into a huge fight and finally, I pulled the age card. I don't think she realized that I was almost an adult and I didn't have to listen to her.

"I'll be eighteen in six months." I hissed. "We can do it one of two ways. I can stay here until my birthday and never sing another song again. Or, I can go live with Dad and work my way back into the music business. It's your choice."

She reluctantly helped me pack. My all around life saver, Peter, drove us to the airport, making faces about my Mother the whole way. It made me laugh and that really helped in the long run. He'd been working for us since my first single came out. He was my body guard, but he doubled as a fantastic driver. He followed me everywhere and most of the time I didn't mind. But sometimes, a teenage girl doesn't want a middle aged man walking ten steps behind her wherever she goes. My assistant and my agent were in the limo with us when we pulled up to the airport. Jenks was having an in depth conversation with Mother about a little publicity while I was away.

"No." I growled. Charlotte stopped scribbling down notes and gave me a sympathetic look. I pulled my knees up to my chest and set my chin on them. Jenks clucked his tongue.

"Bella, Bella, baby!" He crowed. "You have to keep up appearances. Think of your fans! Think of how disappointed they'll be to see you gone."

I had never been more grateful to see the airport. I grabbed my purse as Peter pulled up and popped the trunk, giving Jenks my best defiant glare.

"I'm not thinking about my fans, Jenks. I'm thinking about myself." I murmured. "You can say I'm selfish, but I need to do this. Goodbye!"

I didn't let Mother follow me into the airport. I clung to Peter's side and kept my head down, hoping to avoid eye contact with any possible fans. Peter stopped at security and gave me his best reassuring smile.

"You have a good vacation, kid." He chuckled. "Call and check in sometime?"

I nodded, giving him my signature smile. "You know I will."

He gave me a quick hug and passed my bags. I went through security without being noticed, much to my liking. I was late for my plane, but once I got on, I slept like a baby. I was never on a plane without Mother, so the silence was refreshing. The only disadvantage was when I was woken up by a flight attendant and asked for my autograph. Had Mother been on the plane with me, she would have reported her. But I just smiled, groggily and signed the airplane napkin. She was really thankful and for a moment it was all worthwhile. But I drifted back to sleep and woke up an hour later when we touched down in Seattle. Charlotte told me beforehand that there would be a car waiting for me at the terminal, so my Dad didn't have to drive so far to come pick me up. I called him once I was safely in my car. I doubted anyone in Forks would recognize me; therefore, I didn't go to such great lengths to hide my face or disguise myself. My recent win at the Music Awards had me doubting this for a little while, but Forks was a tiny town. No one watched the Movie Awards there.

Dad assured me that my room was how I left it. That meant nothing to me, considering I was only four when we left. But I thanked him and hung up, letting my head fall back on the seat. This was a whole new experience for me. I was thrilled to be able to hold my head up high and not hide from paparazzi. Who would think to look for me in Forks, Washington? I'll tell you who. No one in their right mind. We pulled up in front of my Dad's house and I profusely thanked the driver, only to have him blush and wave it off. He was a young guy and gave me a shy smile. But who was I to say he was young? I was only seventeen.

"Just doing my job, Miss Swan." He muttered, blinking with wide eyes. I winked and collected my bags from the back seat with me. Dad met me in the driveway with the biggest smile on his face. I dropped my bags and ran up to hug him. I hadn't seen him since Christmas of last year, but he acted like I was never gone. He helped me get my stuff in the house, ranting and raving about how fantastic I was at the Grammy's.

"I was the only man at the station who watched it under his own free will." He laughed, guiding me up to my room. It was smaller than I was used to, but I was happy to be living simply. This was where I came from and this was where I would stay.

"You didn't tell anyone I was coming…did you?" I asked, hesitantly. He shook his head, hair falling in his face. My Dad had always had long hair and it irked Mother to no end. She always nagged him to get it cut whenever he visited.

"I know you want privacy." He assured me. "This is the perfect place for it."

"Am I going to get recognized?" I sighed, sitting gently down on my bed. He grumbled.

"Well, we don't live under a rock." He muttered. "So, I suppose you will be noticed eventually. But you have some time."

This eased a bit of my anxiety. Dad left me to unpack and I was grateful he didn't hover like Mother. She would have picked at the way I folded my clothes and stuck them in the dresser. Or she would have rearranged every piece of furniture in the room until it was completely up to her standards. When all my clothes were safely in the dresser, I dug to the bottom of my second bag and found my rehearsal clothes. I did promise that I would practice my routines every now and then, and I prided myself on being honest. I had every intention of practicing at some point. But, not any point in the near future. I threw my rehearsal clothes in the back of the closet and solemnly swore not to get them out unless I really needed them. I was going through and placing some of my things around the room, when I noticed something shiny at the bottom of my bag. I moved over a few of my books and my journals, to find the dress I wore the Grammy's last month. I tried to recall putting it in there, but I had no memory of it. Mother must have put it there, I thought. And just when I thought she was letting me go. I removed and hung it up gently in the back of my closet with my rehearsal clothes.

I found my way to the kitchen, where Dad was reading the sports section of the paper and drinking a beer. I smiled and leaned against the doorway. I'd never seen anyone drink a beer before. They never had beer at the events I attended or the parties I went to. Even if they did, no one ever drank it. Mother had a fit every time she saw anyone drinking at all. Dad noticed me standing there and raised an eyebrow. I went to sit across from him.

"This is a lot different than L.A. " I noted, looking around the room. I saw that there was no dishwasher, much to my dismay. I had a thing about dishwashers.

Dad took a swig of his beer. "It's a lot quieter than L.A. There are no tabloids in Forks. No paparazzi, no red carpet….no pressure."

I winked at him, and flipped to the comic section of the paper. "I guess I came to the right place."

He chuckled. "You'll get used to it."

I felt my stomach turn and I looked around to see if Dad was making anything. "Hey, Dad? When's dinner?"

I saw a faint blush on his cheeks and he stammered. "I'm not that great of a cook. I usually eat at the diner on my way home from work."

I set down the comics and nodded. "Then let's go."

He looked surprised. "I thought you would want to get settled in. And besides, you said you didn't want anyone to see you just yet."

I shook my head. "I changed my mind. Let's go, old man."

I hopped up from the table and went to get my shoes from the hallway. I slipped them on, followed by my coat and snickered as I heard Dad grumbling about my old man comment. He came out of the kitchen and grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch, before following me out the door. We climbed into his cruiser and drove into 'town'. It wasn't much of a town if you asked me, but I was going to embrace this. I was a little nervous as we pulled into the parking lot of a rusty old diner. I was so used to ducking behind tables and hiding my face when we were out. I kept my head down out of habit as we got out of the car. Dad put his arm around my shoulders, obviously trying to be comforting but it just made me feel silly for hiding my eyes. I let my hair cover most of my face and Dad cover my body. We went into the diner, letting the bell on the door jingle behind us and I quickly sat down at a table. Dad slid in across from me and opened up a menu.

"The burgers here are really good." He offered, before the waitress came over. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"I can't remember the last time I had a burger." I murmured. "Mother says they're fattening."

He snorted. "A little meat never hurt anyone. We'll have two burgers then."

I gave him a hopeful look. "With bacon?"

A grin appeared on his face. "You got it, Bells."

The waitress appeared out of nowhere with a pad of paper and a pen. I kept my eyes trained down and let Dad order for us. She said in a dull tone that it would be a few minutes and to enjoy our wait. I took a deep breath when she walked away. Dad looked uncomfortable.

"I wasn't sure what the school situation was," He started. "So, I just went ahead and enrolled you in the local high school."

My breath caught in my throat. I gasped for breath and looked up at him with wide eyes. "Really?"

He had a confused expression. "Well, yeah. Didn't you go to school in L.A?"

I shook my head, vigorously. "No, never! Mother always said I was too important for real school. I've had a tutor since I was six."

Dad guffawed. "Too important? Your Mother is a real piece of work."

I rolled my eyes and looked away when the waitress came back with our drinks. When she left, I glanced back up. "You think I don't know that?"

He sighed and lifted his glass up a bit. "School should be exciting for you then. To new experiences?"

I gave him a sly smile and clinked my glass with his. "New experiences? I'm in a whole other ball game, Dad. This is crazy."

Our food came a little while later and I scarped it down, greedily. Dad had to remind me to chew about four times. Our burgers came with fries and embarrassingly enough, I ate both mine and Dad's. He whistled when the waitress came to take our plates away.

"Has your Mother been starving you?" He demanded as we went out to the car. I felt heavy, but it was a good kind of heavy. I felt like I was finally being weighed down to the ground. I wasn't drifting anymore. Who knew a cheeseburger had so much meaning?

"Not starving, per se." I murmured. "She just makes sure all food is very unappetizing."

He shivered. "She used to do the same thing to me. I'll tell you, if I never see another soy bean again, I'll die a happy man."

I went to bed late that night. Mother always told me no amount of make up could truly cover up bags and I had to get a full ten hours of sleep at night if I wanted to be prepared for a hard day. Dad scrounged up some extra school supplies for me, giving me the choice between starting school tomorrow or later in the week. I was so excited to actually have some interaction with kids my own age, I chose tomorrow. I had some blank notebooks and pens in my bag with me, so all we really needed were some pencils. I found some in the junk drawer, another concept I loved. Junk was not an option in _my _house. I put an emphasis on mine because I technically paid for the house and everything in it. Mother was just acting as my guardian until I was eighteen and had legal rights to do what I wanted with it. I think when I'm eighteen I'll take pleasure and in evicting her. I was feeling rather malicious tonight.

I stayed up and watched television until midnight, the latest I'd ever stayed up on my own before. It seemed outrageous. I'd been up until two or three o'clock in the morning before, but while at parties and events. Never just because I was watching television or reading a book. I watched a George Lopez marathon, which really perked me up. George thought his Mother way bad? He should try to spend seventeen years with mine. Then we'll see who's miserable. I honestly think I'd rather live in poverty than be famous. At least in poverty you're actions aren't being monitored by millions of people. If you screw up, it's your screw up to witness. No one else can judge you for it because they've probably done the same thing. The media doesn't work like that.

When I finally went to bed, my room felt so cozy. My room at home in L.A was spacious and hollow. I always had a hard time falling asleep at night there. Not to mention, it was one hundred degrees every day out there. In Forks, I wrapped myself up in a blanket to keep from shaking. I drifted off to sleep peacefully, something I hadn't done since I left.

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"Bella?"

"Bells?"

"Bella, wake up. You have school." Dad murmured, shaking me lightly. I stirred and opened one eye to see him standing over me in his uniform. I rolled out of bed and stumbled down the hall into the bathroom. I had set up my toiletries in the shower sometime before I went to bed last night, so I was in and out in all of about ten minutes. I weighed the pros and cons of putting on make up, but I figured I might as well stay with something a bit familiar. I applied the usual make up, more lightly then normal and threw on something relatively normal. I didn't want to look like some Hollywood snob to the all the other kids. I wanted to fit in here. When I came down the stairs, Dad was holding out my purse. I took it, gratefully and took deep breaths as we went out to the car.

"You'll be fine." He assured me. "No one will recognize you. I'm sure these kids don't even watch television."

I had never been so nervous in my life. Not even when I accepted Best Female Artist at the Music Awards last year. Dad dropped me off in front of a dull brown building with kids swarming around. I practically ran to the front office, where a middle aged woman was typing on a computer behind the desk. I hesitantly made my way over to her, with my eyes down.

"Excuse me?" I asked, softly. "I'm new here."

The woman didn't even glance at me, she just kept typing. "Name?"

I cringed and spit my name out, quickly. "Isabella Swan."

I heard the keyboard quiet. I glanced up from my shoes and found her giving me a dirty look. "I don't appreciate your jokes, young lady. Name?"

I let my whole face show. She gasped and I repeated my name. "Isabella Swan?"

"As in…?" She trailed off and shook her head. "_You're _Charlie Swan's daughter?"

I nodded, sheepishly. "Can I please have my schedule?"

She shakily handed me my papers and introduced herself. "I'm Mrs. Cope, dear. If you have any problems, I'll get them sorted out right away."

I winced as I turned away and looked over my schedule. A bell rang overhead and kids got louder, before disappearing into rooms. I looked around and sighed, before hitching my purse up higher on my shoulder and walking towards my first class. It said room 136, so I kept walking until I found it. I pushed the door open, gently, to reveal a small class of kids and an overworked teacher. I held up my papers and quietly introduced myself to him. He didn't seem to recognize me, because he simply pointed inanely at a spot across the room and told me to sit down. I obeyed and found an empty chair at the back of the room near a small girl with short black hair. I kept my face firmly down, but she tried to speak to me anyway.

"Hi," She chirped, ignoring the teacher. "I'm Alice Cullen. What did you say your name was?"

I was practically whispering at her. "Isabella."

I kept looking away, but I knew she was grinning. "You must be Chief Swan's daughter, right?"

I nodded, letting my hair truly cover all my features. "Yeah."

She was silent for a moment. "Ha, you know what's funny? You have the same name as my favorite singer, Isabella Swan. You kind of look like her too."

I stopped breathing and finally looked over at her. Recognition didn't set in on her face until I tucked my hair behind my ear. Before I could stop her, she was squealing and bouncing in her seat. Other kids looked over to see what the commotion was about. I covered my face, but it was useless. Alice was still squealing.

"You're Isabella Swan!" She shrieked. A few other girls joined in a group of boys started whistling and cat calling. I stood up, grabbing my books in the process, but so did Alice and the other girls. The teacher was yelling for everyone to settle down and I tried to use that as my escape from the room. But I found myself jogging down the hall as the kids followed me. That little Alice girl was losing her fucking mind and I dropped my books and covered my ears as I started to run faster. I didn't know this place, so I was randomly going down hallways, hoping it wasn't a dead end. Gradually, I looked back to see more kids had joined her and I sped up, thankful that Mother had enforced those early morning runs. Dad's words came back to me.

"_You'll be fine. No one will recognize you. I'm sure these kids don't even watch television."_

Good call, Dad, I thought bitterly as I ran away from the mob. This was just like in those cheesy movies, where a mob of screaming fans chases the actor through the streets. Any minute now, they were going to catch up to me and I was going to get tackled. It definitely wouldn't be the first time. A door squeaked open when I was a few yards ahead of the mob, and I felt a sense of dread in my stomach, knowing I was trapped between fans now. But a boy popped his head out from behind the door and nodded back into the room. Did. I jumped into the room and the boy locked the door. I caught my breath and suddenly realized it probably wasn't a good idea to join a strange boy I've never met in a locked room with no one around.

"Damn Alice." I heard him mutter, before turning to face me. His hair was in his eyes, but it was the oddest shade I'd ever seen. It was almost bronze. "You must be the new girl."

I nodded, relived that he wasn't jumping all over me. "Yeah, I'm Isabella. Isabella Swan."

He stopped for a second and pushed the hair out of his eyes. "The musician?"

I nodded, slowly. He didn't seem all that excited about, to be honest. He sounded more surprised. "Who are you?"

He leaned against a desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm Edward. Edward Cullen."

**Review, please. This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so I hope it's alright. **

**Rina.**


	2. Incessant Flirting

_Baby, take it off  
Checkered thighs on a pretty pawn  
This vicious velvet ain't enough  
So baby, make a move  
My neon eyes are set on you  
The devil's language taste of lust_

Tell me what can I say to make your body come this way  
We're only two in a crowded room were others fade away  
It's only a crime if I get caught (only if I, If I get caught)  
It's only a line if it get's bought

_-The Cab, "High Hopes in Velvet Ropes". _

**Edward Cullen.**

"You can't break up with her."

Those were the first words I heard when I got down to the kitchen that morning. I rolled my eyes and went to pour myself a cup of coffee, trying my best to ignore the nosy little sister standing in my way. I took a mug out of the cabinet and gave her a pointed look to move. She stepped out of my way, but tapped her foot, impatiently.

"Good morning to you too, Alice." I muttered, pouring my coffee. She shook her head and placed a hand on her hip.

"You have no good reason to dump her." Alice whined. "Edward, she'll be heartbroken!"

I snorted and sipped my coffee, gently. I winced as it burned the roof of my mouth. "She'll get over it."

Alice shook her head, vigorously. "No, Edward, you don't know her like I do. She'll be devastated. This is completely unfair to her."

I picked up my bag off the floor and hitched it over my shoulder after I finished the last of my coffee. I grabbed my keys off the counter and ignored her, walking out to garage. She followed me with a series of comments and complaints. When we were in the car and backing out of the driveway, she threw her hands up in the air.

"Will you at least tell me why you're doing this?" She screeched. "She's the nicest girl I've ever met."

"I never said otherwise." I murmured. "I don't like her, Alice. It's as simple as that. She's clingy."

She scoffed. "That should turn you on. You're the king of cling!"

I scowled at her. "I am not clingy. And even if I was, haven't you ever heard of opposites attract?"

She made a whining noise. "Edward, give her another chance! Please?"

I sighed and shook my head. "Alice, no. And that's my final answer, so stop bitching at me."

She pouted the rest of the way to school, but at least she stayed silent. I pulled into my usual parking spot and climbed out, reluctantly. Alice started to say something, but suddenly Jessica was next to us with a shy smile on her face. She reached up to kiss my cheek and I stepped back, avoiding eye contact with her. I could hear Alice gulp.

"Jessica, can I talk to you?" I asked, glancing at Alice. "Alone?"

She looked uncertain, but she followed me to the far end of the parking lot anyway. I spun around and ran a hand through my hair. "What is it, baby?"

I shook my head. "Jessica, there's no easy way to say this. But-"

"You don't like my hair today, do you?" She cut in, sadly. "I mean, I knew it was a little different, but I didn't think it was that bad. I guess I could pull it back or even-"

"Jessica, we're breaking up." I snapped, not wanting to listen to her endless hair possibilities. She looked like I slapped her in the face. I looked at the ground, to avoid the sight of her eyes welling up.

"But-but, Edward…why?" She choked, quietly.

I closed my eyes. "Jessica, I'd rather not talk about it actually. I'll see you in English, alright?"

I didn't give her a chance to respond, I just took off into the building. The bell rang overhead and I groaned, knowing I was going to get a lecture from Mr. Green for being tardy again. Fuck it, I thought angrily. I'm skipping today. When the halls were empty, I found an empty planning room and stepped in enjoying the peace.

I didn't mean to hurt Jessica. It was inevitable. She didn't honestly believe we were going to last forever, did she? I was no good with relationships. Esme always told me it was because I hadn't found the right girl, but I knew it was only motherly advice. I was a terrible boyfriend and I would proudly admit it. I'd rather be a wonderful single man than be a terrible boyfriend, to be quite honest. I only asked Jessica out because Alice had been pestering me since junior high about her crush. It was silly and I felt bad for crushing her like that, but I didn't feel bad about breaking up with her. Eventually, she would find a new boyfriend and she would be chewed and spit out once again. It was a part of life and sooner or later she would have to learn that. I viewed this as giving her an early lesson. I pushed a few of the desks together and lay down, putting my arms behind my head. I only got a few hours of sleep last night, thanks to Alice giggling on that damn phone. Our rooms were adjoined with a jack and fucking Jill bathroom, so I had the joy of hearing everything she did in that room. And I mean _everything_.

There was the sound of running in the hallway and I assumed it was just a worried freshman. But it was followed by shrieks and screams, one particular scream I knew very well. I opened the door a crack and saw a girl running down the hallway with a gaggle of kids behind her, yelling and screaming. I opened the door out of pity and got her attention, before motioning for her to follow me. She surprisingly did and I locked the door as she caught her breath. It was probably a terribly creepy thing to do, because she went rigid when I did so. I was only trying to keep Alice away.

"Damn Alice." I whispered, shaking my head. I turned around to apologize for my sister, when I saw her face. She was red from lack of oxygen, but she was quite pretty and unfamiliar. "You must be the new girl."

She nodded, seemingly shocked that I wasn't mobbing her like the others. What the hell was that about anyway? "Yeah, I'm Isabella. Isabella Swan."

Ah. So that was what that was about. "The musician?"

She nodded, hesitantly. Isabella Swan was Alice's all time favorite celebrity. She was incredibly popular around here with all the girls. Alice always gushed about how deep and meaningful her music was. All the pigs around here liked her because she had a tight ass, or so I heard. Seeing her now, I knew there was truth to that statement. I was incredibly confused. Why was Isabella Swan at our rinky dink school? I thought the new girl was Chief…Swan's daughter. Charlie Swan and Isabella Swan? Father and daughter perhaps? That was something I would have never put together on my own.

"Who are you?" She asked, curiously. I leaned against the desk an looked her up and down. She walked tall, but she looked a little frightened.

"I'm Edward." I told her. "Edward Cullen."

Dread overtook her face. "Are you related to Alice Cullen, by any chance?"

I smirked. "Unfortunately, she's my sister."

She took a deep breath. "That's very unfortunate."

I chuckled. She looked so flustered to be in this tiny little room with me. Wasn't she used to men? She was with one in every single photo Alice had taped to her walls. She cracked her knuckles, nervously and glanced at me. "This is awkward." She finally mumbled.

I nodded, grateful for some conversation. "That it is. Pardon my asking, Miss Hollywood, but why the fuck are you in Forks? Aren't you doing some crappy movie?"

Her mouth formed a perfect 'o' and she narrowed her eyes at me. "That's none of your business, Mr. Busybody. Besides, you shouldn't believe everything you read in the tabloids."

I snorted. "You think I read that shit? I have a sister, Miss Movie Star. Don't flatter yourself."

She turned up her nose. "For your information, I've never been in a movie, Mr. Insolent."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, excuse me, Miss _Super Star_. I'll be kicking myself about that mess up for weeks."

Isabella Swan huffed at me. "I guess I should thank you for saving me. But I think I'll get in trouble if I don't go back to class."

I looked at the clock on the wall and then back at her. "Sorry, toots, no can do. First block will be over in about three minutes."

She widened her eyes and gasped, looking at the clock in disdain. "Oh, no! Now I'm going to get kicked out. And it's my first day here!"

I couldn't help myself. I fucking laughed in her face. "Kicked out? Oh, please. You get away with murder around here. And I'm sure it's even better for you, Little Miss Famous."

She looked torn between running from the room and slugging me in the face. I think she found a happy middle ground, because she hopped up on a desk and pouted. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

I raised an eyebrow. She looked utterly pathetic. It was adorable, oddly enough. "Care to expand on that?"

She sighed. "No one out here was supposed to notice me. I was supposed to be a normal girl."

I furrowed my eyebrows, disbelieving the words coming from her sweet little mouth.

"You are aware that we aren't Amish, right? We have magazines. We have television. This isn't Little House on the Fucking Prairie."

She was defensive. "Well, I'm new around here. How would I know?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and she pushed those perky breasts up. It was probably unintentional, but it was a lovely sight. "Aren't you Chief Swan's little girl?"

She looked cautious. I obviously caught her off guard. "How did you know that?"

I nodded, grinning at the fact that she answered my question with another question. "It's the talk of the town, my dear. You're a celebrity all around."

She groaned as the bell rang overhead. She jumped off the desk, stumbling slightly. I caught her and laughed as she glared up at me. She brushed herself off and I watched as she peeked out the small window in the door. "Just call me your guardian angel."

She snorted, softly. "You're my _self-appointed_ guardian angel. Do you think I'll be mobbed again if I go out there?"

I sneered, unintentionally. "Well, you're not the sharpest crayon in the box. I would think the little display this morning would answer that question."

She whipped around to give me the finger. I was impressed, I had to say. "Well, _Angel_, what do you suggest I do? I can't very well sit in here with you all day."

I wiggled my eyebrows, playfully. "Well, I'm sure we could make this little sitting a tad bit interesting."

She blushed a fair shade of pink and gave me a look of horror. "That's disgusting."

I mirrored her look. "Oh, again with the self flattery. I don't want to get in your pants, Miss Conceited."

Yes, I do.

She slowly walked over to go back to her seat. "Then what were you talking about?"

"I was talking about a little game of twenty questions," I started. "You know, to pass the time. Plus, I'm dying to hear how the other half live."

She shot me sarcastic look. "Oh, because you seem _so_ star struck. Besides, just because we're the other half, that doesn't necessarily mean we're the _better _half. And what are we, eight years old?"

I put my palms in the air, a false surrender. "If you're too good for an innocent, timeless game…"

She huffed. "Fine. You have to start."

I grinned and lay back down on the desks I pushed together. "You never answered my question from before. Why are you in Forks?"

"Because I can be." She snapped. I whistled.

"Touchy, touchy." I chided. "Sore subject, duly noted."

"I'm not touchy." She grumbled. "I'm just tired of having to explain myself."

I nodded, understanding the feeling very well. "Understandable. Who knew you had some depth, Miss High and Mighty?"

She took a deep breath and ignored my comment. "I'm here because I wanted a break, alright? Now…what's your middle name?"

I chuckled, letting my hair fall into my face. "Very original, Miss Hypocrite. And you called me childish."

"Would you just answer the question?" She demanded, rubbing her temples. I decided to be a good little boy and behave for my lady. Hmmm…my lady? Wouldn't that be something?

"Anthony." I answered, nodding as if that made it more factual. She raised looked surprised. "What's your middle name, Miss Renowned?"

"I'm surprised you don't already know it," She said with an amused expression on her face. "Because of your sister, that is."

"Let me guess?" I said, putting my arms behind my head. "Destiny? Crystal? Cheyenne?"

"I'm not a stripper." She scoffed.

"We prefer the term exotic dancer." I said, seriously as I could. She rolled her eyes.

"My middle name is Marie." She told me, factually. I pursed my lips and thought about it.

"How very plain," I murmured. "Nothing like you at all. Isabella on the other hand…that fits you very well. A gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl."

She gulped and I peeked at her with amusement. "Don't be an asshole."

I put on my best innocent expression. "I'm appalled that you would say such a thing. I'm far too handsome to be an asshole."

She gave me an incredulous look. "And you say I'm the one with the self flattery? It's my turn. How old are you?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm forty five, I've just had a lot of Botox. How old do you think I am, Miss California? I'm eighteen."

Isabella looked longingly at me. I could definitely work with that. "You're so lucky. I have six more months to go."

"It'll get here soon enough." I assured her, solemnly. "Enjoy you're childhood while it lasts. Adulthood is far more boring."

She looked suspicious. "No wisecracks?"

I grinned. "I'm lulling you into a false sense of security."

"It's working." She murmured.

I sat up and held my hand out. "Give me your schedule."

Isabella's eyes turned pleading. She handed it to me, hesitantly. "Don't rip it up."

I scoffed. "I'm not that immature."

I went over her schedule and mentally compared it to mine. We had English, Biology and Lunch together, it seemed. She had Calculus with Alice though, poor girl. I relayed the information to her and she blanched. "I have to spend all day with you?"

I ripped her schedule in half, never looking away from her. "Oh, I forgot…I am that immature."

She gasped and yanked the two halves away from me. "Jackass!"

"Why thank you," I murmured. I then peered at the clock and smiled. "It seems lunch is only minutes away. Shall we?"

I held my elbow out and she took it, begrudgingly. I lead from the room and down the hall to the cafeteria. We were the first ones there, so I brought her over to my usual table. Alice sat at the end with all her little friends, while I preferred the company of my boys. Kids slowly started to file in and Isabella kept her head down, though they spotted her immediately. News traveled fast, it seemed. They were staring and pointing and a few girls were bouncing in their seats. When Alice came in, I covered Isabella's ears. Alice literally lost her shit.

"Oh my God! Isabella Swan is sitting at my lunch table!" She screamed, jumping up and down. "This is so epic!"

Isabella winced and I scooted closer to her before scowling at Alice. "Shut up, Alice. You're scaring the poor girl."

She took a deep breath and jumped into the chair across from Isabella. She looked thrilled, yet sheepish. "Sorry about, you know, chasing you this morning. I guess I lost my cool. Oh, but this is so amazing! You're here, at my school, sitting at my table!"

Isabella gave her a sweet, but cautious smile. "I'm glad you're enjoying this."

"This is amazing," Alice gushed. "Can I have your autograph?"

"Alice!" I snapped. "No, you cannot have your autograph."

She pouted. "Why not? We're practically sisters! I know you better then anyone, Isabella, trust me."

"I go by Bella, actually." She said, softly. I snickered.

"You know her better than anyone?" I asked, taking the bottle of water from Alice. She shrugged me off.

"I knew that. I just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable." She said, subtly. I put on an innocent face.

"Sisters, huh?" I chuckled. She stuck her tongue out at me.

"Oh, hush, Edward." She hissed.

I had a feeling I was seriously invading Bella's personal bubble, but I swung my arm around her shoulder and took another swig of water. "I apologize for my sister. Her testosterone levels are all willy nilly now that she's transitioning. It really affects her emotional balance."

She scoffed. "I am not a man, Edward."

I sighed. "Whatever you want to tell yourself, Allan- Oh, I mean _Alice_."

Alice looked desperately over at Bella with wide eyes. "I swear I'm not a man!"

Bella waved it off, slyly. "Oh, I know that. You're much too pretty to be a man anyway."

I think I saw stars light up in Alice's eyes. She looked like she just won the lottery. "Thank you so much! I wish I was half as pretty as you though. You're, like, the prettiest girl in Hollywood."

Bella blushed and shook her head. "I don't know about all that..."

Alice nodded, vigorously. "No, no, it's true! Tell her, Edward!"

I turned my head so I was looking at her out of the corner of my eye. If I turned any farther, my nose would bash into her eye and that wouldn't make for a very smooth first impression. Though, I suppose first impressions are out the window by now. "You _are _the _prettiest _girl _anywhere. _Not just Hollywood, my love."

She scooted away and rolled her eyes. "Would you stop with the pet names?"

I gave her goo-goo eyes. "Why ever not, sweet love of mine?"

Alice stopped our incessant flirting. Well, it was technically me flirting. "You are just how I always thought you would be. Esme always tries to tell me that I shouldn't look for a role model in such a…what was the word she used? Oh, right, risqué. Which is Mom code for trashy."

I narrowed my eyes and clenched my teeth. "Alice."

Bella shrugged it off. "Oh…it's alright. I get a lot of letters from parents complaining about the example I set for kids."

Alice almost looked offended. "But you aren't a bad example at all! Your music is so inspiring. Especially you're most recent album. I swear it made me cry."

"You're doing an awful lot of swearing, little sister." I murmured, cocking an eyebrow.

Bella changed the subject. "So, Alice…where are your, um, friends?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "I told them to leave you alone and to focus on something else. That's why they're over in that corner staring at my brother."

Both Bella and I looked over simultaneously. Groups of giggling girls were in the corner table of the cafeteria, pointing at us with wide eyes. I smirked while Bella gave them a polite wave and a false Hollywood smile. She was incredibly good at it, I had to give her that. It only left me wondering if every smile that lit up her face may be fake. We turned back around after I blew a kiss at Jessica Stanley and she squealed like I was the starlet in the room.

"You have as many fans as I do." Bella noted, wryly. Alice scoffed.

"He's not nearly as charismatic as you are though." She argued. "He's really kind of a jackass. Do you want to be my best friend?"

"Desperate." I coughed under my breath. Alice took a deep breath and shook her head.

"I'm sorry. I'm getting a little ahead of myself. Listen, I'm throwing this party on Friday and it would ah-_mazing _if you could come." Alice gushed, clapping her hands together. Bella shifted in her seat and looked down at the table.

"Actually, Alice, I'm busy on Friday. Can I take a rain check?" She murmured, creating a crease between her eyebrows. Alice gulped and tried to look blasé, but as a brother I could tell she was hurt. She shook her head, before nodding and then shaking her head again. The look on her face said she was more embarrassed than anything else

"Oh, I understand." She choked. "You probably have a lot stuff to work on. I mean, you're probably really busy."

I looked over at Bella and saw a torn expression. "Alice, I'm really sorry. I just need some time to get settled in and adjust to the new routine."

I came to her defense. "Hey, Bella, don't worry about it. Another time."

Alice nodded, unconvincingly. "Yeah, another time."

"Are you hungry?" I asked her, successfully changing the subject. "I think they're having pizza today."

She wrinkled her nose. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I'll just eat when I get home."

I grinned. "What's the matter, Miss Healthful? Cafeteria pizza has too many calories?"

Alice took another shot at relating to her. "That's why I bring my lunch."

There were footsteps behind us and suddenly, Bella spun around. Mike Newton was standing behind us with a shit eating grin He held out a napkin and posed like he was at the fucking Emmy's. Bella politely waited for him to speak.

"You're Isabella Swan." He said. _No shit. _"I'm your biggest fan."

She flashed her pearly whites. "That's very flattering. Thank you very much. Can I do something for you?"

He handed her the napkin and a pen. "Could I have your autograph?"

She quickly scribbled down in impersonal note on the sanitary paper and handed it back to him. He winked at her and I thought I could smell the cheese oozing off of him. "You know, I'm a musician too. Maybe I could get your number and we could get together and, uh, jam together."

"Jam?" I snorted. "Nice, man."

Bella shrugged. "I don't think my boyfriend would like that very much."

I slowly turned my head and cocked an eyebrow. Alice squealed. "Boyfriend?"

Mike waved it off, while his buddies chuckled from the table behind us. "That's cool. I wouldn't want to interfere. Rock on!"

He walked back to his table and ignored the laughter at his table and ours. Bella was even giggling, shaking her head so that her silky dark hair moved. "So…a boyfriend?"

Bella snickered and stood up, scooting her chair back. "Don't get too worked up, lover boy. I'm free as a bird."

And with that she walked away.

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